


Slytherin Nights, Gryffindor Daze

by Samayel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:07:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1957851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samayel/pseuds/Samayel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco has a plan to get the House Cup, and finally beat his boyfriend at Quidditch, but can he pull it off?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slytherin Nights, Gryffindor Daze

DISCLAIMER: Warning ! I make no claim to any property of J.K Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play.

 

Slytherin Nights, Gryffindor Daze by Samayel

Draco Malfoy had a plan. It wasn't an evil plan...not really. Just a clever notion about getting everything he wanted at the same time. Nothing evil about that, right?

He already had money. He already had great looks. He already had the most famous boy in Hogwarts for a boyfriend. Life was pretty sweet.

There was just one little thing he was missing. He'd never, never, never beaten Harry at Quidditch, and he meant to have that little feather in his cap very soon.

Admittedly, he adored Harry. The bastard was sexier than he had any right to be, and there could be nothing more perfect than two lean-bodied Seekers sating their every lust with each other.

Nonetheless, Draco wanted to win one for Slytherin. Losing when they'd been enemies had been frustrating, but back then, no one implied that he'd let Harry win! Now, Slytherin House was full of hushed rumors and vindictive innuendo. Draco thought he had a way to kill two birds with one stone. All he had to do was make sure Harry muffed a game or two, and Slytherin would almost automatically step in to take the Cup.

How to do it was the question of the hour. Draco lounged in his room, waiting for Harry to slip in through the unlocked door. That Invisibility Cloak was a blessing! Since they'd started seeing each other, they hadn't gone more than three or four nights without slipping off for sex or sneaking into each other's dorms.

It couldn't be anything traceable. If it was too obvious that Harry was off his game, people might start investigating. It had to be subtle. That ruled out potions, and fairly obviously ruled out spells that might be noticed or investigated. Draco didn't really like those possibilities anyway. It had to be something that wouldn't endanger Harry. Their first few weeks had been pretty rocky, but he'd grown rather fond of his Gryffindor boyfriend, and he wouldn't seriously risk his relationship...not even for this. Subtle...something subtle to take the edge off Harry's Gryffindor instincts and killer flight skills.

The door gave a faint creak, and Draco smiled. His plans could wait until later...right now, the erection tenting his sheets took precedence, and the cure for that little problem was closing the door and slipping his Cloak off! 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco's eyes snapped open. It was somewhere near three in the morning. He was quite comfortable, curled around Harry, head at rest on his lover's chest, but he had just had a moment of serious inspiration. Harry was always a bit sluggish and complacent after sex, no matter what they'd just done. Draco, on the other hand, was usually energized and animated afterwards. There were possibilities in that!

They'd just spent the evening buggering each other half stupid, and that was all well and good. Potter usually needed a bit more rest afterwards than Draco, and tended to be completely exhausted if he'd been the one doing the shagging. No complaints, though. Harry more than earned the right to be exhausted! As far as Draco was concerned, the only person he could stand the notion of bottoming for was Harry. For all their differences, the cute prat had turned out to be an utterly remarkable shag!

Potter was snoring softly, eyelids flickering from innocent dreams, while his own boyfriend plotted against him. Draco felt a faint twinge of guilt, but quashed it quickly. He had a plan, and it was one that Harry would never complain about, and that Draco could enjoy executing at the same time!

He'd need a few things before the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff match to pull this off. That would give him a test game to see if his plan made a difference in Harry's performance. It might take a mild glamour or two, and he knew just the right ones to cast. No potions for Harry, since those would be hard to administer and would risk being detected. The only one who needed a potion with this plan was Draco himself. There were endless potions that enhanced lust, and no small number of spells and glamours that enhanced the attractiveness of the caster. Harry already found him attractive; the odds of being caught using a spell to boost that were minimal.

By game time next week, he'd have his boyfriend completely sexually exhausted, and playing below his par. He'd have plenty of time before the Slytherin/Gryffindor season ender to test this theory out, and if he timed their encounters right, the only one that would require caution from him would be that final game. He wouldn't want to tire himself out! 

Draco closed his eyes and curled a little closer to Harry, and while he slept, his dreams were of elusive Snitches, House Cups held aloft, and gloating victory sex with his boyfriend!

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was the evening before the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff game. Draco had decided on a wonderfully discreet little spell that merely augmented a person's existing behavior in the eyes of others. Harry would see every little move Draco made as sensual, and every gaze between them would smolder with unspoken desire. Even though they rarely had sex before matches, (but always immediately after) Harry would be powerless to resist this much temptation.

Draco had dosed himself as well. He was a fairly lusty fellow by nature, and magical assistance wasn't really needed in that department, but the potion he'd taken pretty well guaranteed that he'd be horny enough to keep Potter busy with round after round of wild, kinky monkey-sex! He could hardly wait! In truth, the potion worked so well that it was difficult to make it through breakfast without humping the leg of every cute guy in the Great Hall! It took an iron will to not act on his impulses until he got Harry alone. 

It didn't take much to accomplish that, either. Harry got one look at Draco eating a strawberry during breakfast and nearly coughed up a lung. They'd had to wait until classes were out, and the wait was tearing Draco apart as badly if not worse than Harry. When his dorm room door squeaked, Draco was already naked, achingly erect and draped across the bed in the most lurid position he could devise. Harry was on him like white on rice in a matter of seconds.

There was no satisfying Draco easily, as the potion had fueled his libido enough for any half dozen horny teens. Harry may have been more randy than usual, but Draco led him even farther, inspiring more from his lover than ever before.

Hours later, Draco was cheerful, giddy and glassy-eyed, while Harry was unconscious, having passed out immediately after the fourth extended session of love-making. If he could just squeeze a little more action out of Harry first thing in the morning, he'd get a glimpse of whether it worked or not.

'Not a bad path to victory...all things considered', Draco mused to himself. At the moment, he was feeling so replete that he didn't really care if the plan worked or not. Harry'd gotten off twice just topping Draco as soon as he got in the door, then Draco had turned it around and repaid the favor a couple of times before they even got around to what could be called foreplay. The rest of the night had been a blur of shifting positions and roles; lips and hands caressing everywhere and everything, bodies slick and musky with sweat and their own seed. This was definitely one of his better plans.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco watched from the stands while Harry flew across the pitch, wind tousling that wonderful mess of black hair. He always loved watching Potter fly. His boyfriend must have been born on a broom to be that good.

He'd gotten his morning shag in the shower, with Harry spread legged and moaning in front of him, letting Draco work one last orgasm out of them before they parted for the day. As always, it perked Draco right up, but left Harry a bit peaky and addled as he wandered off to Gryffindor. It seemed to have had the desired effect, too!

For once, the Gryffindor Seeker seemed distracted, and to Draco's practiced eye, his boyfriend’s responses were sluggish and a little off time. Draco still wanted a victory for Harry. It was Hufflepuff, after all. Draco could still pull out the stops and try a few new things before the Ravenclaw/Gryffindor match in a couple of weeks.

The victory didn't come easily, though. Harry took an unusual amount of time to find the Snitch, and then he lost it while dodging a Bludger and had to start over again. Luckily for Gryffindor, they were in the lead at 80 and 40 when Harry finally grasped the Snitch and ended the game. In the excitement, no one really questioned whether his game was off or not.

Draco slipped away, content that his efforts had borne fruit. By the time the next game came around. Potter would be so used to constant sex, that it wouldn't even occur to him that Draco had an ulterior motive.

If he did ask questions, Draco already had his counter-accusation ready. 'How could you accuse me of something like that when we're finally getting closer than ever? You know I'm crazy about you!' That would head off any immediate crises, and he had new heights to aspire to, since they'd just set a personal record the night before. It would take a lot to have a night of sex more tiring than that, but Draco felt up to the challenge.

Best of all, Quidditch matches ALWAYS set Harry's glands on fire, and even tired, it wouldn't be long before his boyfriend came looking for a victory romp! Life could be very, very sweet, indeed!

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night before the Ravenclaw game would live in Draco's memory as a legend. He'd deliberately cancelled their dates with false emergencies for two days before that night. Each day, the glamour had left Harry panting with desire. When they finally met in Gryffindor tower, safely hidden in Harry's room with spells securing every entrance, the masks had come off, so to speak, and the animals within were released.

He'd wanted Harry just as badly, since he'd spoiled the both of them outrageously of late. Instead of a date or two each week, they had trysts an average of four or five times a week now. The sudden time off wasn't really welcome by then, but Draco had a higher purpose.

That didn't mean he wasn't enjoying himself. Amplified by potion and with a sex-starved Gryffindor at his disposal, Draco made use of every opportunity for satisfaction. The room was positively saturated with the scent of male sex before they were finished, and it would take a long string of Scourgifies to make those sheets usable by anyone but them! 

Harry had been easily twice as savage as ever before, and Draco had no qualms about admitting the way that that had pleased him. It had been easy to see, too, since Harry had shagged him half through the bed, and Draco had come twice without either of their hands being involved in the process.

He hadn't let Harry have all the fun to himself, either! At one point, Draco had pinned his boyfriend's knees to his chest and had worked Potter over until the poor devil was spattered from chest to face with his own come. Licking all of it off of him afterwards had just been the invitation to the next round.

There had been long breaks for kisses and touching and stroking, but those were overshadowed in Draco's memory by the wild frenzy that had claimed them both during the more vigorous parts of their activities.

Harry went to sleep sated, and didn't get nearly as much sleep as he ought to have, AND his wake up call was finding his boyfriend's mouth completely wrapped around his morning erection, demanding further attention. The morning took a lot less out of him than the night had, but the effect was cumulative. Harry was bleary-eyed and dreamy when Draco slipped out and headed back to Slytherin. 

In all honesty, he hated leaving Harry's bed. Draco felt occasional twinges of guilt, but most of what he felt was a vague irritation. He rather liked sleeping next to Harry, and waking early to slip out of each others' dorms always annoyed him. It would be nice...if they had a place of their own. 

Draco hadn't given a lot of thought to what would come after Hogwarts, but it was rapidly becoming clear that a life that didn't have Harry in it would be very empty. What a horrible thought! No morning Harry, no afternoon quickie Harry, and no all night, wickedly horny Harry. How awful! Draco dismissed the notion as unacceptable and made a mental note to discuss after school plans with Harry...but only after he had his hot little hands on the House Cup!

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The Ravenclaw match had gone very poorly for Gryffindor. Admittedly, it wasn't all Harry (and thus Draco's) fault. Ron Weasley had let most of the Quaffles that came his way slip through, and it rattled the whole team's performance. Ravenclaw had been ahead 140 to 10, and the pressure had been on Harry to bring the Snitch in soon! Ravenclaw's Seeker played an excellent game, employing feints, bluffs and some clever broomwork. Draco had been fairly impressed. Harry had gotten too involved in trying to outguess the other Seeker, and in the resulting confusion, he hadn't watched the score when he'd gone for the Snitch. 

Harry had caught the Snitch despite struggling to do so, but the game ended at 160 to 170...in Ravenclaw's favor. Draco had the grace to feel bad about Harry's blunder. It wouldn't be victory sex tonight...it would be consolation sex. He had the Cloak, and would make sure he didn't give Harry a chance to say 'don't come' until he slipped through the door of Harry's rooms. 

He knew it was two-faced...to comfort his boyfriend over a loss that he had staged and planned so painstakingly, but he took heart in knowing that the boyfriendly comforting process would be entirely genuine. Harry probably had some pent up aggression and irritation, and Draco knew just how to help him work those out!

It wound up taking quite a bit of effort just to get Harry's clothes off, and before it was over, Draco had had to pound Harry halfway through the headboard and into the tower wall before Harry relaxed enough to stop thinking about the game and sleep decently.

Besides, Harry would need his rest. In two weeks Slytherin went against Ravenclaw, and a week after that, the final winners would be pitted against each other. If Slytherin carried the Ravenclaw/Slytherin match, it would be Gryffindor/Slytherin in the final game, and that was Draco's ultimate goal. When that day came, Draco meant to have Harry in a state of near collapse, even if he had to skive off classes for extra sex time!

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Draco didn't want Harry to think he was avoiding sex on the day of his match against Ravenclaw, and constructed an intricate, and quite honest, fantasy to take the place of the usual sexual Olympics that marked their evenings.

He convinced Harry to meet him in the Prefect’s bathroom at midnight. Oral sex by torchlight in the baths had been wonderfully relaxing, and the wickedest part of it still made Draco flush a little with mixed lust and shame.

The fantasy he'd constructed had finished with Harry pulling away from Draco at the last minute and coming directly onto a kneeling Draco's face, just inches away, so as not to miss with a single drop. Harry had done it willingly and expertly.

Draco had closed his eyes as a hot rain of Harry's seed had spattered across his face and waiting mouth, with pearly drops of Harry's come falling onto his tongue, as well as his cheeks, lips and even his nose and chin. He'd been whimpering with naked lust at the time, and every drop had made him feel wanton, free, and the ultimate object of Harry's every desire. 

The encounter had been satisfactory on many levels. Harry had lapped Draco's face clean, they'd kissed afterward for so long that the flavor of Harry's come hadn't been in evidence by the time they finished, and Draco had gotten off quite nicely, all without tiring himself out before a game. A perfect plan in every way! Life wasn't merely sweet...it was a free pass to Honeyduke's with extended credit for all you can eat!

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Slytherin ground Ravenclaw to a pulp with the final score at 230 to 10. The game had really belonged to Slytherin's keeper, who played her best game of the season that day, blocking no less than twenty separate attempts at scoring by Ravenclaw. Draco had been right on form as well. He'd seen Ravenclaw against Gryffindor, and nothing the rival Seeker tried could shake him. They'd been neck and neck after the Snitch, and Draco had reached that extra inch and claimed the prize. In a week, he'd be facing Harry on the field, but tonight was for celebrating!

After the Slytherin dorm crowd began to thin, Draco slipped under the Cloak and made his way to Gryffindor Tower. At the appointed hour, Harry opened the entrance and peered out into the hallway for a few minutes, then smiled when he heard the rustle of cloth as the entrance portal closed.

Minutes later, Harry was sitting on his bed with Draco's cock in one hand, and two fingers of the other working their way slowly into Draco's arse. Harry gave the kind of wet, sloppy head that was inherently sexy more because of its enthusiasm, than its skill. Draco was the more artful one in that department, but he loved the way Harry's face looked completely enraptured when it was buried in his crotch. The dark haired boy's features relaxed completely, and nothing but raw pleasure was discernible from his expression.

Hours after that, Draco lounged in retrospection while Harry breathed the soft breaths of slumber onto the back of Draco's neck. Draco had never really liked cuddling after sex. At least, he hadn't until he'd gotten involved with Harry. Come to think of it, he hadn't really liked sex that much, until Harry came into the picture. There were a lot of ways that Harry brought the best out of Draco, and sex was only one of them. Draco gave a little further thought to what to do when school was over, then contemplated his endgame strategy before scrunching himself a little more comfortably into Harry's arms, and letting sleep and dreams of victory carry him away.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It had been a fairly normal week, notwithstanding their increased sexual activity, and Draco had enjoyed it to the fullest. Harry had made a half-hearted attempt to beg off of sex before the game, and Draco had matched him word for word. He'd allowed a lip to tremble, and his eyes to burn, then huskily uttered, "Tomorrow, for just a little while, we have to be enemies again. We did so much of that for so long, I never want us to be like that again. We don't belong apart because of a game, Harry...do we?"

The results, in tandem with an erotically charged cologne, Draco's regular potion dose, and the effects of the glamour, were bloody spectacular! It seemed that the truth was a powerful weapon, since Draco hadn't been lying when he'd said those words. He may have felt a twinge of guilt about one thing, though. He'd made a show of feeling extra vulnerable, and took the bottom role that entire night, hoping to further exhaust Harry. When Harry thought he had no more left to give, Draco teased him back to life, begging, cajoling, demanding more and more and more. And Harry gave! Draco's entrance was loose, slick, and dripping with the evidence of Harry's satiation before it was over. Draco felt whorish and hungry, incapable of repletion, and even begged Harry to not pull out, leaving them connected even as Harry drifted into exhausted slumber.

Even with Harry soundly asleep, Draco worked his hips until the flaccid manhood at rest in him swelled and bloomed again, and reveled in the scarcely conscious moans that came from his slumbering lover, whose dreams were on fire with the heat of yet another orgasm. Finally sated, Draco let sleep take him, too.

In the early morning, Draco kissed his barely coherent boyfriend goodbye before he headed for Slytherin. Harry was as beautiful in repose as he was in action, and Draco stared for several long minutes before he leaned close and kissed Harry into semi-wakefulness. He felt safer saying these things when Harry was almost out cold, and the words were out before he could properly think them.

"Harry. I love you more than any game, more than any House, more than any Cup, and I always will. I'll see you when it's over, love."

Still stunned at what had just come out of his mouth, Draco kissed Harry's sweaty brow and made his departure. Then he was back to Slytherin, back to his room, and healing his rather sore bum by spell before taking a last minute nap to stay ready for the game.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

There was no trace of shame or guilt on his face when he smiled at Harry on the pitch. The pre-game handshake was a formality, but their smiles were genuine now. They took their positions with their teams, and Draco furtively watched Harry's shambling steps and sluggish demeanor. It looked like Harry had slept right up until the pre-game team meetings! 

Just this once, after all these years, Draco was going to snatch a win out of Gryffindor's hands, by beating Potter to the Snitch, and that was the only way that mattered. Any other victory would be hollow. It would have been nice if he could have done it another way, but Slytherins get their advantages wherever they can.

Then the whistle blew, and there was no time for thoughts. They flew skyward, fourteen young men and women on single mission, each one a cog in a machine built to win.

Draco roared away from the crowd, moving into patrol mode, scanning the pitch for any sign of his golden quarry.

Harry tore past him from beneath, a red and gold blur bound upward, and grabbed the Snitch.

Gryffindor: 150, Slytherin: 0.

Elapsed time: one minute and seven seconds.

It was a record only surpassed only by a Seeker from Spain in 1913, who once caught the Snitch in fifty eight seconds.

Draco would have cried, but he was too stunned. He might have yelled or thrown his broom, but he was just too gob-smacked. He landed his broom and walked to the center of the pitch while the school roared for Harry as one, and his heart was in his shoes. On Draco's best day, and Harry's worst, the man still caught the Snitch without breaking a sweat. Fucking uncanny!

Harry's handshake was genuine, and his green eyes flashed the message, 'See you tonight!' far louder than actual words ever could have. Draco let out a sigh and grudgingly shook his lover's hand, nodding yes discreetly enough that no one else would ever know what passed between them.

At least the sex had been great. The plan was a failure, but failure had never tasted that sweet. Tonight would be consolation sex…for Draco, not Harry. No House Cup for Slytherin in his final year, and no first time bragging rights for defeating the 'youngest Seeker in an age'. 

Draco's teammates didn't even give him hell about the whole thing. What Potter had done was too awe inspiring for even Slytherins to refute. Draco accepted their implied kindnesses and walked the pitch to the showers. He lingered longer than any of the others, not showering or bantering, just sitting in contemplation until hours later, he realized he was alone.

He dragged himself to the showers, finding the silence quite pleasing. He made short work of it, toweled himself off, and headed back to his locker and clothes.

Harry was waiting for him, sitting on the bench beside Draco's locker, with a smile that wasn't gloating, but sincerely kind. Draco shook his head in wry amusement. Harry spoke before Draco could get a word out.

"I got lucky out there. Really lucky. I was so tired I just knew I had to grab it before I fell off my broom and wound up napping on the pitch. The only thing I regret is not getting to watch you fly longer. You really are magic on a broom, you know?"

Draco smirked. He couldn't bring himself to feel bitter, and that was fairly surprising in itself. "You were amazing out there today. I mean that, Harry. You always are, but today...today was something else." 

Harry stood and pulled Draco into long hug. Draco hugged Harry back and melted into those familiar and comfortable arms. Then Harry's head shifted, and a soft voice whispered in his ear.

"It was still a good plan, love."

Draco stiffened instantly. The world exploded in his mind. He pulled away and looked at Harry with suspicion and more than a little apprehension.

"You...you knew? How...when...how..."

Harry cut him off. "Enchanted cologne, glamours, sex before games for the first time ever...I was sure after the Ravenclaw game. I didn't kill a Dark Lord just to be blindsided by my sex drive." 

"You let me...why? Why, Harry? Are you even angry?"

"I have a Slytherin boyfriend. I knew what that meant when we started going out. I was a little hurt at first, but I half-expected something like it. I'm not angry, because you didn't hurt anyone. And Draco...for the record...I love you. I love every minute I spend with you. I couldn't have said no if I'd tried. I'd risk losing a thousand games if I got to spend one extra night with you. If not telling you that I'd twigged to what was up got me just a few more nights with you, it was worth it. Maybe what you did was wrong, but I'm not complaining. Every second of it was like heaven to me."

Draco stood in silence, burning with shame, and for the first time, he felt desperately unworthy of Harry's affection.

Harry continued. "It comes down to this. The year is almost over. We leave here in just a few weeks, and I don't think I can handle leaving without you. This was fun when it started, but I'm in love with you now. Not 'fooling around', 'horny kids', 'let's just have a good time' love. I mean 'please grow old with me', 'I never want to be without you' love. Draco, will you be my lover? Do you think you could love me that way?"

And Draco Malfoy, heir to riches, Slytherin to the core, and manipulator extraordinaire, threw himself into his lover's arms, wept openly, and whispered back, "Harry. I love you more than any game, more than any House, more than any Cup, and I always will."

And so he did. Life was sweet, and this time, references to Honeyduke's just didn't cover it.

The end.


End file.
